Throughout the week of 21 June, we will be celebrating Pop Up Projects’ tenth anniversary and will be welcoming different authors and illustrators from their 10 Stories to Make a Difference books to the blog.  To introduce this special week, we are delighted to welcome Dylan Calder, founder of Pop Up.

Children’s literature organisations like Pop Up Projects, the nonprofit I founded ten years ago, occupy a vital, often unacknowledged position in the literature and publishing ecosystem. If traditional publishing represents that moment when the author ‘takes the stage’, it’s a fair chance that somewhere along their journey organisations like ours will play a crucial role: organising their workshops in classrooms, getting their books into school libraries, programming them in festivals, bringing their books to life in museums and galleries, showcasing them on digital platforms – and more. If they’re authors of colour and other marginalised backgrounds, they’ll have learned first-hand that ‘diversity’ drives everything we do; that it’s not just about children seeing and being seen, it’s about social justice and the part we have to play in championing equality and challenging hate.

Without the literature sector reaching readers in the places the big festivals never go, and investing in authors’ livelihoods in an age of dwindling advances, there would be fewer authors, fewer from non-white and lower income backgrounds, and more teachers relying on Roald Dahl and Harry Potter because that’s all they know. What’s remarkable though is that given all this literature we create and co-create, platform and champion, we don’t make and sell books ourselves. Initially, I didn’t see 10 Stories to Make a Difference as a commercial opportunity; it was a Birthday Project, really: we’d commission and produce a super small print run of ten short stories and poems, written and illustrated by some of our old friends and new, to celebrate turning ten in 2021, while introducing some debut writers and illustrators into the world.

And then the stories came in. Stories that needed an audience, that could really make a difference to children’s lives, providing some of those windows and mirrors we’re always talking about. 

Having invited six well-known writers to contribute stories on the theme of difference, exploring it from any angle and working within any form, it quickly became clear that here was an opportunity to publish stories that had not or might not find a home with other publishers: Jamila Gavin’s In Her Element, a long-nurtured tale of a non-verbal girl with quadriplegia who day dreams of a world without gravity under the sea, could not find a publisher prepared to put a character with disabilities front and centre; Sita Brahmachari’s lyrical free-verse story, Swallow’s Kiss, in which a little girl follows a trail of paper birds to the refugee community who made them, was turned down by several publishers; Philip Ardagh, one of our funniest authors, played against type in giving us Mistaken for a Bear, a historical tragedy set on the grimy streets of London where there’s a tiger on the loose; Marcus Sedgwick channelled the spirit of crisis that coursed through 2020 in Together We Win, in which an ethereal eyewitness muses on those brave human moments that kickstart revolutions; Laura Dockrill offered a deceptively simple poem about feeling out of place, championing the oddness inside us, the things that make us weird - the joyfully titled Magnificent!

Through an international competition for writers under 26 we discovered four incredible new voices: Eleanor Cullen, a recent creative writing graduate whose A Match for a Mermaid riffs on the traditional princess-seeks-suitor tale with a grand finale same-sex wedding; Anjali Tiwari, just 17 and living in Lucknow, India, gave us Forbidden, about a passionate friendship forged despite the caste system; Krista Lambert, a Texas-based LGBTQ+ ally wrote Indigo Takes Flight, a heart-breaking rhyming poem about coming out and finding acceptance from those you love; and Avital Balwit, whose short story That Thing about a sentient octopus has as much to say about how we misunderstand animals as it does about how we misrepresent humans. Our 10th writer, Jay Hulme, not new to children’s publishing, gifted us a mini-epic poem about a dragon who doesn’t belong: in his words, “a massive trans allegory” that has much to say to all of us about what it’s like to grow up feeling different - and to be perceived as a monster.

But none of these stories would be the stories they are without the illustrations that bring them so stunningly to life. Some of our greatest illustrators can be found in these books: Chris Riddell’s symbiotic dragon representing a boy struggling with his sexuality in Indigo Takes Flight; Jane Ray’s magically bright birds dancing across the pages of Swallow’s Kiss; David Roberts’ gloriously queer world-building in A Match for a Mermaid; the dazzling octopi amidst the watercolour washes by Alexis Deacon in That Thing.

10 Stories also helps launch some of the brightest new stars into the world of children’s books: Jamie Beard’s background in LGBTQ+ community illustration brings colour to the darkness of Victorian London in Mistaken for a Bear; Danica Da Silva Pereira’s three-colour illustrations with a silk-screen feel enrich Forbidden; Ria Dastidar’s collaged papercut work for Magnificent! will have children everywhere mimicking her style; Sahar Haghgoo’s extravagant spreads for Here Be Monsters were inspired by Iranian miniatures; Daniel Ido’s arresting images of resistance and revolution light up Together We Win; and with In Her Element, Jacinta Read’s depictions of a character with disabilities see her moving beyond the confines of her wheelchair, through daydream and drama, giving her a movement many others might not have.

I’ve long held a dream of a first-timers press - a route into publishing for the unpublished, taking the risks that commercial publishers sometimes can’t, with the aim of helping children navigate that inner world that’s growing and changing, while making sense of the outer world which can be as cruel and bleak as it can be warm and bright. I hope that our 10 Stories does just that.

I have just moved further into the countryside, meriting access to a mobile library – a jolly bus filled with books. I’m looking forward to using this service: when I lived in the city, aside from toddler read-and-sing-along sessions and volunteering for my local school, my library usage had been utilitarian, in support of my part-time work in academia.

A few years ago I started writing for children. If I’m lucky, this will bring many more visits to libraries for events and book borrowing. To be a writer, after all, you have to read, read and read some more. While writing a novel for 8-12 year-olds, I read stacks of kids’ books, but I also drew heavily on academic literature and my own ethnographic research into migration and ideas of home and belonging.

Tiger Skin Rug (Cranachan Publishing) is the story of two boys who move from India to Scotland. The values and cultural references coursing through the book stem from many years’ worth of research in the form of archival digs, conversations, data gathering and time spent engaging in daily lives and customs of Hindu families in Zambia. Writing an ethnography is, by definition, ‘writing culture’ and the process demands a degree of immersion within a group, of which the ethnographer is most likely an outsider. It also demands ‘self reflexivity’: this is an awareness of the affect of one’s self as an outside researcher on the situation, and a sensitivity towards all those within that situation. An ethnographer is not objective but will seek to provide an authentic narrative. A good ethnography will therefore never be reductive, and will embrace complexity.

Tiger Skin Rug confronts the same big issues tackled in my research (migration, identity, ideas of home, the intersections of privilege and prejudice), but for a different, younger and distinctly more important, readership. I didn’t want to shy away from tricky ideas for children, but rather wanted to invite in lots of different ways of thinking about one thing – the meaning of home. My interest in home, particularly relating to migration and how children experience migration, reflects my own life experiences. It also reflects my deep concern that people in all manner of contexts continue to exclude others based on ideas and perceptions of place, authenticity and belonging – ideas and perceptions that often confuse or conflate ethnicity and nationality, race and class.

My current academic remit strongly resists attitudes that hinder cultural exchange and understanding. I am part of a global study abroad college where I sit on a working group for the college JEDI team. JEDI here stands for Justice, Equity, Diversity and Inclusion. The ‘Empire’ we are fighting is not, however, in a galaxy far, far away: we are plotting to decolonise the curriculum and revamp training to ensure fairness and representation for all. My next book is a nonfiction title coauthored with Joan Lennon. Talking History: 150 Years of Speeches (Templar Publishing, out July 2021) offers children a range of voices and political stories from around the world.

Writing for children, in turn, has influenced the way I think about my academic work. It has opened up teaching possibilities and allowed me to make new literary and theoretical connections. Supporting students’ learning and independent research projects often involves directing them to relevant books and articles. Increasingly, I find myself recommending fiction, too – which provides me with the perfect excuse to visit that mobile library.

A big thank you to Joan Haig for a fascinating blog and to Cranachan Publishing for the opportunity.

We are delighted to welcome Sita Brahmachari to the blog with a very special guest blog about libraries and their role in her books.  Throughout Libraries Week we will be posting special content each day so do check back!

Imagine a world in which libraries are closed, schools are closed, and those without books at home or the tech to access ‘digital libraries’ are denied access to books and learning. A world in which only children from certain backgrounds can thrive.

Surely such a vision belongs only in the dystopia I explored in Where The River Runs Gold? and yet…

Recently, when my local library building re-opened albeit on a partial basis, one of the things that most gladdened my heart was seeing the families waiting on the steps to enter the story hearth. In writing my latest novel When Secrets Set Sail libraries and librarians have been once again in my mind and heart.

When contemporary children Imtiaz and Usha hear the whispers of history in their Hackney home and go in search of the identity of the ghostly voice of a woman speaking to them through a conch shell, they head to the library.  Of course the first port of call for many children today is the internet…. But in my story and in real life not everything they need to discover about the voice in the conch that belongs to an ayah (one of many Indian nannies who used to live in the house) can be found online.

 A satellite local library at the end of their street, run by a professional retired librarian from Hackney, holds many treasures including an archive of local history - old photos and newspapers articles contributed over generations.

Charles and Dr Devi (the latter an archivist at V&A Museum) like so many librarians I have worked with on my writing way,  do so much more than most people will ever know to engender in young people a lifelong love of reading for pleasure. The children and families who are so eager to re-enter the beating heart of library buildings after the long closure, know and feel this deeply.

School and public libraries and librarians have been inspirations and helped me to write these stories.

It was a librarian in an East London school who set up a Somali girl’s writing group and invited me to work with  them for a year as I wrote Red Leaves in which Aisha,  a Somali refugee survivor, is a central character. These children are credited in the acknowledgements of the story and it would not surprise me at all if some of that group become writers one day. In publication week Imogen Russell Williams, then working in a school library, kindly sent me a copy of how many times the book had been taken out in one week.  I keep this well-thumbed one week old copy by my desk to remind myself of how hungry children are for stories that can speak to them.

Similarly in Tender Earth, while Patron of Reading at Archer Academy, I worked in the safe haven of the library with two children who have cerebral palsy because they told me they wanted me to represent a character in a wheelchair in my next story. Our work together led me to write the character of Kezia. It is so often in the library the space can be created for this precious work with young readers and potential authors of tomorrow. It can be no coincidence that so many of us authors credit our love of reading and writing to childhood libraries and librarians.

For my most recent novel When Secrets Set Sail, the scope of a story exploring different kinds of oral history testimony was first tested at Fortismere School when I was Patron of Reading there.  I was working on a creative writing project encouraging students to write ‘Letters to an Unknown Soldier’ – the nameless statue on Liverpool Street Station.  Librarian Gill Ward and I were overwhelmed by the students’ response and the objects and photos they brought in of their family histories. The experience led me to understand the impact that a story focusing on oral history might have.

When visiting Sheffield Libraries with Empathy Lab a librarian talked of how few depictions of Roma children there are in stories. Later at an Amnesty Conference I was shocked to discover that Roma children have a life expectancy on average of ten years less than any other group of children and the lowest literacy rates too. The character of Cosmo and his storytelling grandmother Valini began to grow… In homage to where the idea was seeded …. In When Secrets Set Sail we meet Cosmo for the first time as he is taking out a poetry book assisted by Charles at his library hearth!

In search of Hearths

‘Close the curtains. Good! Now imagine sitting there, plugging your earphones in and listening to people telling you their local history stories while watching all the photos and documents in those archive boxes  scrolling around the screen in front of you. Your very own personal experience in the passport booth of history!

(Page 141 When Secrets Set Sail)

Charles has had ambitions to place the diverse oral history of the area into an old passport photo booth he calls ‘The Passport to History Booth.’ It’s a kind of ‘Doctor Who’ Tardis of an oral history project through which he hopes to ignite the imagination of the community and creates a hearth for many children and families to contribute their stories to and gather around.

The library is one of several hearths in When Secrets Set Sail. The Joseph family also run a drop-in refugee centre in the bottom of the house they name ‘The Hearth’. I realise that in all the stories that I have written, no matter what challenges, past, present or near future dangers the children face, I am always seeking out  free creative – story hearths and hives -  for them to grow where hope seeds can be planted and  their spirits and imaginations nurtured.

Brent Library visit (2019) Shifa’s seed packets from Where The River Runs Gold have generated many more.

The refugee centre Hearth that forms the bottom layer of the magical ‘Ship House’ in When Secrets Set Sail  is homage to the art and writing class that Jane Ray and myself run at Islington Centre For Refugees and Migrants work together in. We have sometimes exhibited the work in Islington Libraries.  People are very often stunned to know that this book borrowing service is free to all. Sometimes one has to step outside one’s own reality to see how miraculous a free library service can look like for members of the centre. Through another lens it is moving to see how the local community respond to the art and writing of newly arrived refugee people. The library is the place where local meets global.

Public libraries and School Librarians have been working hard over lockdown to keep their online offerings, orders and collections open in this digital age and yet what is missing for the families in my local library is the physical building. This is what the families I saw sitting outside excitedly waiting to enter have been missing… the warm welcome around the story Hearth that libraries and librarians should be able to offer us all, whoever we are.

‘Culture n’ Stuff’ – What treasure is to be found in the library?

Young people use the library in many different ways in my stories. I think of Aisha and her friend Muna in Red Leaves using it as the space where they explore ‘Culture n’ Stuff.’ I have a game that I play as I write of imagining the child characters forward into adulthood and I pin point who planted in them the seeds that make them grow into who they will become.  For Aisha it will be the librarian who first nurtures her poetry telling voice.

In Tender Earth Pari and Aisha debate the kind of books that feed them.  Laila finds in I am Malala the most eye, heart and soul opening story she has ever read. By contrast, her friend Pari, a refugee survivor from Iraq, is in search of fantasy. In addition she resents being ‘a charity case’ for Laila’s hand me down stories. Pari prefers the library because as she sees it, here all students have equal access to books even if their parents don’t have bookshelves at home.

From Corey’s Rock Illustrated by Jane Ray

In Corey’s Rock - Orkney Libraries provides the dreaming space of soft cushions and beautiful children’s artwork. This story corner or ‘Hearth’ has been lovingly created by the librarians. It’s here that Isla finds solace and healing through reading.  Despite the fact that she has stories told to her and selected by her parents --- it is here in the library space that she seeks independence and solace. When Isla declares an interest in ‘Selkie Tales’ the librarian is able to locate and offer her a choice from which she hones in on just the one she needs. Here is where Isla’s own agency over her journey of recovery begins.

A place to dream

If the bottom deck of the Ship House in When Secrets Set Sail is is a hearth the ‘top deck’ is the place in which the children’s imagination is given space to roam… the room ‘more of ship than a bedroom’ contains an anchor and an enormous porthole that Usha’s Pops Michael created from old bits of wreckage collected from shipyards as he travelled around the world. If only each piece could tell its story… Along with the anchor a central feature is an enormous circular window named ‘The Globe Window,’ offering, Pop’s Michael once said, ‘our very own porthole onto the world.’

The children in my stories are seeking these spaces to dream, to explore their own histories and those of their globe-wide Diaspora families, friends and neighbours … they’re looking to see how ‘culture n’stuff’ connects them and to read themselves into these spaces. Some might seek stories to see how they are reflected through ‘The Globe Window’ and other readers and writers like my young narrators Imtiaz and Usha, are keen to push the porthole wide open to set sail on a quest to discover untold stories that will lead them from their home and hearth right across the globe.

From When Secrets Set Sail - a place to dream - The Globe window – illustrated by Evan Hollingdale

Who knows! Maybe Charles’ ‘Passport to History Booth’ dream to have an oral history project in ‘every library in the land!’ really can come true! I have already seen many wonderful displays when visiting libraries.

I hope this story will be a catalyst for many more.

Invitation!

The actual house in Hackney in which When Secrets Set Sail is set has been nominated for a Blue Plaque due to the work of Farahanah Mamoojee @ayahshome and Hackney Libraries and Museum. Librarians are invited to take part in an interactive project #WSSBluePlaqueProject and have readers and students enter their own nominations of buildings and people they would like to see commemorated. To find out more visit:

https://www.hachetteschools.co.uk/landing-page/when-secrets-set-sail-by-sita-brahmachari/

https://www.booktrust.org.uk/news-and-features/features/2020/september/why-sita-brahmachari-wants-you-to-discover-the-amazing-history-in-your-street/

Image gallery shows:

When Secrets Set Sail jacket image

Tender Earth back cover

Brent Library Visit (2019), Shifa's seed packets from Where the River Runs Gold

Illustration by Jane Ray from Corey's Rock

The Globe Window, illustration by Evan Hollingdale from When Secrets Set Sail

A huge thank you to Sita Brahmachari for this very special blog and for starting our Libraries Week week of content!

Established in 2000, in memory of award-winning author Henrietta Branford and her editor Wendy Boase, one of the founders of Walker Books, the Branford Boase Awardis given annually to the author and editor of the outstanding debut novel for children. Uniquely, it also honours the editor of the winning title and highlights the importance of the editor in nurturing new talent.

Last year’s winners were Muhammad Khan and his editor Lucy Pearse for I Am Thunder.  The winner of the 2020 award will be announced in a special online ceremony at 6.00pm on Wednesday 9 September.  We are delighted to welcome Layla Hudson of Round Table Books, one of the judges for the 2020 Award, describes the process and the 2020 shortlist

Being a judge for the 2020 Branford Boase Award has been an absolute honour. Since starting my bookselling career back in 2016, I’ve always wanted to be part of a judging panel and to share my thoughts with other judges about which books we thought were winners. Although, of course, it’s very tricky to choose one winner out of twenty books, I enjoyed the challenge immensely! It was also fun to do such critical reading; as a blogger I do tend to keep things in mind when it comes to needing to review a book, but this was on a whole different level. I found myself keeping notes and highlighting parts that I wanted to discuss, which isn’t something I usually do. 

Of course, this year things were very different with our judging meetings and discussions. Back when I was first chosen to be a judge, I was looking forward to meeting my fellow judges in person and chatting books over cake. With lockdown, meetings had to be changed. We all met and spoke over Zoom, brought our own cakes if we wanted, sat with our stacks of books but were able to still chat passionately about the things we’d read and discuss our top favourites on the list. It was interesting to hear my fellow judges’ thoughts on the longlist, and was also great to get into discussion about our thoughts on particular books. Every reader is different, and my fellow judges Julia Eccleshare, Muhammad Khan, Sue Bastone and Victoria Dilly were an absolute delight to work with. Many passionate talks and agreements were had during our Zoom calls, and although we weren’t together, this didn’t stop us from running over our allotted meeting times with our discussions. 

The 2020 shortlist has been incredibly strong, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading these books. Some of my new favourites came from this shortlist alone! Each book is so different which really shows the variety of books published today, and there are so many themes and topics discussed throughout. A Pocketful of Stars by Aisha Bushby not only talks about grief, but has the topic of change throughout the book as the main character navigates through the ups and downs of starting secondary school, The Million Pieces of Neena Gill by Emma Smith-Barton delicately discusses teenage mental health, and Frostheart by Jamie Littler is a triumphant adventure that has a core message of finding your voice. The shortlist also showcases some different and intriguing takes on traditional book publishing. For example, Bearmouth by Liz Hyder is written phonetically as the character is learning to read and write as you go through the book, which I’ve never seen before! A Good Girls Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson includes interview transcripts and video descriptions, whilst also showing parts of the main characters essay as she writes it, and The Space We’re In by Katya Balen has coded chapter titles that you can decipher with the key at the start of the book. The editing process that the books have gone through is also to be applauded - there are some brilliant editors in the world of children’s publishing, and the books longlisted goes to show these talents.  There is a wealth of new talent in the book world, and I was also proud that there were some books by Black authors and authors of colour on the list too. I hope that publishers continue to work hard to champion their books by diverse authors, and hope to see more featured in future awards.

Many thanks to Layla Hudson for her insightful thoughts and views on judging this year's Branford Boase Award and on the shortlist.

We are delighted to welcome Yusef Salaam and Ibi Zoboi, authors of the verse novel Punching the Air, a searingly honest and hard-hitting novel that leastes a lasting impression upon the minds of readers.

Please could you tell us a little about your backgrounds and how you came to work together on Punching the Air?

I met Yusef in college when he walked into one of my classes and our professor embraced him and said something like, “I knew you didn’t do it.” Moments later, I discovered who Yusef was and chased after him for an interview for my college’s newspaper. I never got that interview, but three years ago, I ran into him while promoting my young adult novel, American Street. Yusef was selling his self-published book of poetry and we both agreed that he needed to tell his story to young people. -IZ

The thing about when Ibi and I met was that I wasn’t ready to share my story. I was trying to hide in plain sight because the world had already labeled us as monsters. The truth had not gotten out yet and here was this person who wanted to help me get the truth out. I’m a member of what was known as the Central Park Five who were falsely convicted of a heinous at the age of 16. We were exonerated in 2002. When Ibi and I reconnected a few years ago, I was ready to tell another version of my story. -YS

How did the collaboration itself work?

Yusef and I had several long conversations and we came up with the name of a boy: Amal, which means hope. Amal’s worldview and personality is inspired by Yusef and I crafted the poems around how Yusef was able to reflect on his experiences as an incarcerated teen. Yusef’s own poems served as a foundation for the book and four of them are infused into the novel, which helped shape the tone and cadence for Amal’s voice. Amal is a very self-aware teen who can clearly articulate the injustices he’s experiencing and his greatest desire is to channel that awareness into art. This is how I saw 16 year-old Yusef and I had the task of allowing him to live on the page through Amal. -IZ

Can you introduce us to Amal Shahid and the situation he is facing?

Amal’s rage gets the best of him one night. It was more than just a matter of being in the wrong place at the right time. It was a matter of being in the center of a boiling point. Tensions were brewing in this neighborhood and someone would eventually get hurt. But unfortunately, a white boy is in a coma and a Black boy pays the hefty price even though he was not responsible for the fatal blow. Justice wasn’t served. Amal has to find a way to keep his mind and spirit free even while trapped behind walls. -YS

Amal's story was informed by parts of your own experience Yusef, were any parts of your past challenging to revisit?

I would say no. It was actually liberating because this is not my story. I was able to channel certain ideas through this character and Ibi was able to help me shape what it is that I was saying in order for it to resonate with the most readers. -YS

Self-expression and art are important themes in Punching the Air, how important is it to give a voice and a platform for young people?

While Punching the Air addresses juvenile justice and wrongful imprisonment, this story is ultimately about the healing and redemptive power of art. There is very little we can do right now for the young people who are serving time. By the time we begin to see drastic changes, they would’ve already been processed through the system and in danger of recidivism. This book addresses the present. It asks young people, what can you do now to to keep your soul in tact and speak your truth. Creative expression and channeling rage is vitally important and this is the most important message in Punching the Air. -IZ

The novel is told in verse, what were the freedoms and constraints of this and how did you arrive at this decision?

There was only freedom in writing this novel in verse. Because there are gaps in Yusef’s memory of his own experiences, the white space on the page represented those gaps. We wanted to focus the story on Amal’s emotional journey and didn’t want to bombard readers with irrelevant information. We didn’t want readers to ask, “Well, did he do it?” Through a series of poems, we can a deeper understanding of Amal’s perspective—his highs and his lows, his self-doubt, his fleeting moments of joy. All of that can be expressed through poetry. -IZ

Poetry is a profound way to get to the heart of something. I wanted to be a rapper when I was a kid. I listened to message-driven hip-hop and that in itself was poetry. In my mind, there was no other way to tell this story. -YS

Amal is disinterested in schooling because it does not reflect his experiences and culture, does the education system need adapting to encompass different perspectives? What do you feel are the pitfalls of not doing this?

It’s not just about perspectives, it’s about experiences, which of course shapes perspectives. The experiences of a Black child in an urban environment needs to be validated in the classroom. Instead of focusing on lack or punishing children for behaviors that are a direct response to their environment, why not give them outlets to express bottled-up emotions? How do we expect children to retain information when they haven’t processed the injustices in their communities? -IZ

We have to start valuing the creativity that is all around us, the creativity that children produce. A child not being able to sit still in a classroom can be a gift. That child is asking the teacher to change direction. Switch it up, play a game, take the classroom outside. Otherwise, the child is being asked to conform to set of rigid rules that can be detrimental to him. That child will not live up to his or her potential in that classroom. Creativity is stifled. Living a purpose-driven life is stifled. This is a cycle that begin in the classroom. -YS

Many of the comments around enslavement and its ongoing impact for communities and individuals are hard-hitting  'I'm the only one with an anchor tied to my ankles' (p47), is there adequate recognition of the ongoing impact of slavery on the lives and life-chances of people today?  What can people do to better address this?

Absolutely. We can never forget. Not forgetting and constantly making connections to America’s violent past will unveil centuries of injustice. This is when I look to my mentors— Nelson Mandela, Maya Angelou who said we mustn’t be bitter about these injustices. We have to speak it, vote it, dance it, paint it. This is how we continuously address the effects of slavery in this country. -YS

I truly believe that trauma can be passed down through genetic memory. In fact, the idea of DNA is referenced a few times in Punching the Air. Again, I’ll go back to the idea that art can be heal. Truth-telling through art can break generational curses. -IZ

'Your mind is free, Your thoughts are free, Your creativity is free - '

The importance of books and reading is explored int he book, the following writers are mentioned:  'The Mis-Education of the Negro' Carter G Woodson... (p371) James Baldwin, Richard Wright, Toni Morrison, Octavia Butler, Ibram X Kendi, Michelle Alexander, Ta-Nehisi Coates... 

The Youth Library Group is made up of  librarians working with children and young people across the whole of the UK, are there other writers that you consider to be must haves for library collections?  What role does reading play in terms of helping our understanding?  

Any and every book by Black writers published now should be included in your collections. Pair a book about social justice with a book about Black children being carefree and safe. The books should reflect a range of experiences for Black children—ones that are rooted in addressing social change and ones that are simply fun and joyous. This would highlight the humanity of Black children. -IZ

While I was in prison, books were what allowed me to create pictures in my mind. I traveled to any and everywhere through the pages in a book. It’s what freed me. And even when I met Ibi, we were given books to read that helped shaped our understanding of the world. I have so many books, my most prized possessions! -YS

What gives you hope and what advice would you give to people feeling imprisoned by stereotypes and prejudice in the way that Amal is?

Being able to share my story gives me hope. There was I time when I felt the world was against me. The current president of the United States put out an ad in the New York Times calling for our execution. I was only 16 when I thought the world wanted me dead. And now, I get to share my story with the world and people like Ibi and Ava Duvernay are helping me do just that.

It is hard to imagine anyone reading Punching the Air  and not being affected by the injustices it describes.  How can people get involved with helping to combat this?

Share Punching the Air with everyone you know. Read other books like this one. Start a dialogue. Get involved with local activism. Speak out when you see injustice. See others as fully human first while acknowledging systemic racism at every level. See Black children as children. -IZ

Thank you to Yusef Salaam and Ibi Zoboi for the interview, to HarperCollins for the opportunity.
Photo Credits: Yusef Salaam by Staci Nurse, Staci Marie Studio; Ibi Zoboi by Joseph Zoboi.